Worth It
by Five Shades
Summary: A brief glimpse giving insight into the fear and uncertainty a blood elf experiences as she prepares to introduce her troll to her family. This one shot features characters that appear in my other story. Blood ElfxTroll. Complete


A petite Sindorei woman with a ponytail repeatedly smoothed the front of her robes, the action almost compulsive. The zeppelin that had brought herself and her companion from Northrend lurched to a stop at the landing. It wasn't the gloom of Tirisfal Glades that was responsible for her nervous tic or her distracted state. The trip had been long and uneventful…it was a perfect time to project all kinds of emotions and make all sorts of assumptions.

What would happen? How would she be able to get through this? What would they _say_?

She would almost rather be subject to their anger over a dismissal. She wanted them to be angry because it was the best she could hope for...at least in the torment of her own mind. Her father's lined and solemn face filled her mind and her heart quailed within her.

She hadn't known fear such as this since her mother had died almost eight years ago.

She began to pick at the cuticles of her nails as her companion spoke with one of the goblin zeppelin employees, handing him a few silver coins for fetching their bags from the cargo hold. She winced as the cuticle of her thumb began to bleed.

Her legs felt wooden and a cold numbness had settled over her heart.

This feeling was partially akin to how she felt going through the motions of working. Part of her wanted to go back to that state of walking slumber, where she lived within a safe, predictable and perfectly miserable existence.

Only this time, her movements were automatic, the numbness was caused by an irrational fear. This time she felt poised to flee.

She was afraid of change and she was afraid of there being no going back. She was actually considering just running now and never returning to this continent. Better to never see them again than face their scorn. Her cowardice and fear had her actually entertaining thoughts of simply abandoning this trip for Jark to meet her father and brother. What was the point of doing this, anyway? What purpose would it serve but to cause an irreparable rift within what remained of her family?

Veya sucked on the tip of her finger in an absent gesture to stop the bleeding. She glanced in Jarkal's direction and her heart skipped a beat. The troll flashed her that same crooked grin that had always had the ability to turn her insides to mush. The elf exhaled and favored him with a wan smile.

Slinging both of their pack's over one shoulder, he prowled over to where she was standing by the exit of the zepellin. They both stood there looking into the eyes of the other as passengers hurried to disembark. He took her tiny hand in his huge three fingered one and lifted the delicate injured digit to his lips. The kiss to her fingertip was full of tenderness and his eyes spoke volumes his empathy.

"Whatevah happens, babe, ya know I got ya, right?"

She closed her eyes briefly as he tugged her hand, leading her off of the goblin made sky ship. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. "It's always been just an abstract idea. Actually telling them."

The tension of her body was like a coiled spring. This was madness.

Her eyes strayed to their joined hands as they made their way. All of the other passengers had long since left the tower. Her thoughts were so disjointed with the reality of her happy life of which her family had no clue…and the terrifying reality of shoving a big troll in their faces and announcing her marriage to him.

Her hand in Jark's was so comforting to her when they were nameless in a big city crowd, where every imaginable race and species congregated and hooked up. Did they get odd looks? Sure, but people were usually too busy to care.

Her eyes cut to the dismal landscape of the forsaken forests and directly to the forbidding stone edifice of the ruins of Lordaeron not far in the distance. They'd decided to walk the short distance to the entrance to the Undercity. Veya's stomach lurched.

Her quavering voice was tight and small.

"I'm afraid, Jarkal."

The lanky, silver haired jungle troll continued to lead her down the tower, each step they made bringing them closer to the Orb of Translocation that would transport them both to her ancient home city. He looked back over his hunched shoulder at his wife.

"I know, Veya. I wish I could protect ya from everything, even dis." His throat worked as he swallowed rather thickly.

She stopped halfway down the rickety spiral staircase that hugged the tower, the slight waver in his voice evident to her. She felt a brief stab of shame for worrying so much about herself. He was the one walking into the proverbial lion's den. And here he was reassuring her.

The thudding in her heart subsided a bit. He had her back, there was never a doubt about that. He was the reason why she wasn't walking in her predictable, safe and perfectly miserable slumber anymore. He'd given her warmth, passion, and most of all, a purpose. She'd felt so lost ever since her people had been decimated by cruelty, hate and death. Ever since her mother had been so savagely murdered, Veya had been mechanical, the knowledge that she needed to do something a surety in her mind. Dedicating herself to her craft was mindless, she could help people, heal them…and continue to be numb.

Jarkal was a bright and shining place of terrifying, beautiful _mortality_. His light was so brief and so precious. When they had met, their lives had crashed together with frantic and startling finality. Her feeble attempts to disengage from what fate had so completely brought together was a futile endeavor to save herself the anguish of losing her love to death long before her own life began to ebb. She'd long since resolved in her mind that she could never deny herself the few decades of happiness with him that she could carry through the centuries.

So why should she be so paralyzed with doubt and uncertainty at the prospect of sharing her joy with her father and brother? Had she become that detached from them in her grief?

She feared she would lose them, too.

The hand that held hers was warm and strong.

She offered his hand a tentative squeeze. The icy tendrils of fear were still there. But at least her feet were moving. She murmured, "Jark…it will be fine." She was still staring at their joined hands, acutely aware that they were in plain sight of passersby that paid absolutely no attention to them.

He was here, now. He was present, as steady and dependable as her own personal guard dog…he was a place of safety for her. She wouldn't have it any other way. Wordless, she stood on her tiptoes, leaning on his chainmail clad chest in a silent demand, her eyes suddenly determined. She squeezed his hand with more strength and lifted her head high. Jarkal's lips quirked into a smile around his tusks and leaned down to brush her lips with his own.

"Dat's my girl. Ya got dis."

It wasn't long before they were standing before the gigantic luminescent pink orb that held a spot of eerie loneliness within the cold stone courtyard.

She was still terrified. But he was worth it.


End file.
